


From the Ashes

by Jadesfire



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:39:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesfire/pseuds/Jadesfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once the dust of 'the Christmas invasion' settles, Jack pays a visit to Torchwood One.  And finds a lot more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> This story came out of conversations during the first series of Torchwood, along the lines of "How _did_ Jack get the hand?" Huge thanks to [](http://miss-zedem.livejournal.com/profile)[**miss_zedem**](http://miss-zedem.livejournal.com/) for sterling beta-work as ever, and helping me put my heart into this story.
> 
> The characters Peter and Jo are mine. RTD can keep Yvonne, but I'm in negotiations for Jack.

  
The ash had stopped falling by the time Jack got to London. It was almost pretty, seeing all the buildings and streets covered in fluffy white, except this snow was never going to melt and it was going to be one hell of a clean-up job. He gripped the steering wheel tighter than he needed to, glad he'd overruled the rest of the team and left them in Cardiff. This was something he didn't want to have to explain to them.

He parked Torchwood Three's SUV between a rather battered Volvo and what looked like an official Jaguar. As he got out, he glanced at the number plate, recognising it as UNIT and wondering who they'd sent along. He didn't need to wonder about the other car, and he grinned as he made his way across the car park. It looked like the gang was all here.

He showed his ID to the security guard and was directed to the seventeenth floor. It felt strange, riding up into Torchwood instead of down, but then Torchwood One had never exactly been subtle. A forty storey building in the middle of London was just the beginning of it.

There was already a small crowd of people waiting and Jack recognised some government and military notables, as well as other agencies and some old friends. It had to be ten years since he'd last seen Jo Wallis from UNIT, but there was no chance she wouldn't recognise him. She had the same air of competent amusement that he remembered, and if her hair was closer to grey than it used to be, her eyes were just the same when they met his. Since Jack was fairly sure no-one else in the room knew how well they knew each other, he restrained himself to a polite nod of greeting, getting a knowing smile and tilt of the head in return, making almost regret that he had to head back to Cardiff straight after the conference.

Jo seemed to have appointed herself as guardian to a man in a dark suit which practically broadcast the letters 'CIA'. Jack wasn't entirely comfortable having that particular agency in the building, even if he trusted Jo to keep the man on a tight leash. He let his attention wander, jumping slightly when someone called his name.

"Jack!"

Even before he turned, Jack was smiling, knowing that voice despite age and a new, tremulous note in it. It seemed to be his day for reunions with old friends.

"Peter! Good to see you. They dragged you down here too?"

Like Jo, Peter had changed with age, but his eyes still sparkled with something that even years at Torchwood Two hadn't diminished. He reached out a hand as he closed the distance between them. "Couldn't keep me away."

Jack shook hands warmly, ignoring the curious stares of the other visitors. They must have made an odd pair, the tall, young man and the frail, elderly scholar. More elderly, in fact, than Jack had anticipated, and he resisted the urge to put his arms around the man, more worried that he might hurt him than what people might think.

"Found Four yet?" Peter asked, and Jack laughed, squeezing the hand that still held his.

"Still looking. It's gotta be there somewhere."

"I agree. Actually, I have a new theory-"

Peter trailed off as an office door opened and Yvonne Hartman joined the group. Jack watched as she worked the room, meeting and greeting with a professional nod and a diplomatic smile that didn't reach her eyes. Now he remembered why he'd turned down the London job offer.

Eventually, she made her way round to him and Peter, holding out her hand and curling a perfectly painted lip. Peter, who had better manners, shook the offered hand while Jack kept his arms folded, enjoying the fact that even in her two-inch heels, she had to look up at him. Petty, but satisfying.

"Jack," she said, her smile not fading, for all its brittleness. "It's been a long time."

"Yvonne. Not nearly long enough."

Not missing a beat, she shrugged. "If you will insist on hiding in the back of beyond, there's not much I can do about it. Did you enjoy our little demonstration?"

"Your demonstration," Jack said, lowering his voice because it was that or start yelling, "lost us any chance of mercy in the future."

"We don't need mercy." Yvonne dropped her own voice to match his. "And we gained respect."

Jack laughed, making several people turn to see what the noise was. "You're a baby throwing her toys out of the pram. No-one's impressed. And now we don't have the one weapon that might have actually helped us." He took a step closer, leaning down so his mouth was by her ear. "They know we're here now. So much for the element of surprise."

She bristled with indignation, taking a step back and glaring up at him. "I think you'll find we still have a few surprises up our sleeves." Turning away quickly, she addressed the group, and for all the tension in her shoulders, Jack didn't doubt that her professional mask was back in place. "Ladies and Gentlemen," she said, "welcome to Torchwood. Shall we begin?"

* * *

  
Jack fidgeted as various scientists and analysts rehashed the invasion scenario and Torchwood's response, giving their insights and opinions. Most of the data had been sent to Cardiff and Tosh and Suzie had spent hours going through it, making the lecture old news to Jack. He was more interested in what they weren't saying.

He waited until Jo had asked her question before speaking.

"Can I ask at what point the Prime Minister entered the situation? My understanding is that Torchwood falls outside the government's supervision."

Waving a hand to quiet one of her staff, Yvonne answered the question herself.

"The current Prime Minister was heavily involved in the Downing Street Incident. Her insights and experience have been invaluable."

"And what about the next Prime Minister? Is Number Ten inside the Chain of Command now?"

"Captain Harkness, Torchwood is apolitical, as you well know. Disclosure is made on a case by case basis." Yvonne pointedly ignored Jack's raised eyebrow, letting her gaze take in the rest of the room. "Are there any more questions?"

As everyone was filing out for lunch, Peter fell into step beside Jack.

"Secret monarchist, are you?" he asked.

Slowing his pace for the older man, Jack shook his head. "Not exactly. I'm just not comfortable with the politics of it. Look where it got us."

"It's terrible," Peter agreed. "Terrible. Reminds of an account I finished translating earlier in the year. Dravian, it was, and it was interesting because it was using Dralian inflections…"

Jack half-listened, letting Peter ramble as they joined the others in a boardroom, converted into a lunch room for their benefit. The linguistic intricacies were all pretty much lost on him, but it was good to hear Peter so enthusiastic, still so much the interested scholar Jack had always known. The seating plan put them at the far end of the table, well away from Yvonne and easily offended diplomats. As Peter talked himself to a standstill, Jack exchanged a knowing smile with Jo, who'd been seated opposite him.

"Apparently we have to know our place," she said dryly.

"Definitely below the salt."

"The food probably tastes better without it."

They all exchanged small talk through the first course, pulling holes in the lectures from earlier and discussing UNIT's latest action in Mongolia. Hearing the word, Peter launched into another digressive story about a Mongolian hat that he had in the archive, and Jack was grateful that Jo seemed as willing to listen to the monologue as he was. It never ceased to amaze him how much information his friend had absorbed over the years, and if he tended to over-play his 'rambling old man' hand a little, well, Jack didn't mind going along with it.

Peter subsided when the teas and coffees were brought round. Beside Jo, the CIA agent stirred himself from his concentrated eating enough to take notice of his fellow guests. Not that Jack had paid much attention to him either.

"So tell me, Captain," he said, "what does Torchwood Three actually do in Cardiff?"

Jack was used to the question. "Well," he said brightly, "once the staff have dragged themselves out of bed an hour before dawn, leaving the sheep under the duvet, they walk the hills in the rain before going to choir practice. It's a male voice choir, of course, but the girls' baritones are coming on splendidly."

Jo hid her laugh behind her coffee cup, while even the CIA man had the grace to smile.

"Sorry, no offence was meant. It's just that, in our experience, London is a far more likely target."

"Depends what you're aiming for."

Before he could be asked anything else, there was the tapping of cutlery on glass and Yvonne was on her feet again.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we're now going to give you a select tour of Torchwood. Obviously we won't be opening all our archives, but much of the pertinent material will be available to you, and there'll be a portfolio of photographs and analyses at the end. So if you'd like to follow me?"

Trailing at the back of the group, Jack fell into step beside Jo, who gave him a sideways look.

"What are you really doing out there, Jack?"

Jack's face was the picture of innocence, which was, of course, a dead giveaway. "I don't know what you mean."

"Fine. But don't forget where we are when you need us, alright?" The humour was gone from Jo's expression, and she put a hand on his arm. "If you know what's coming-"

"I don't." With a quick glance at rest of the group, Jack let his steps slow almost to a stop. "But it's not going to be pretty."

"It never is." Jo looked away for a moment, then back at him. "Please. Just…call me. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay." Pulling gently on his arm, Jo leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to try and stop our CIA friend from taking any more pictures on his mobile phone."

* * *

  
The tour seemed to drag on for hours, with Yvonne prattling about the wonders Torchwood had discovered. Jack recognised some things that had come through the rift, wondering what Torchwood One's analysts were making of them. Other things he recognised from other times and other places. He had to hide a smile when Yvonne pointed out a small, egg-shaped object that so far had defied analysis. He knew what it was for and was fairly sure it wouldn't have been on the tour if she'd known as well. Not on this kind of tour anyway.

Drifting behind the others, Jack found himself wandering towards a door that definitely hadn't been on the 'accessible' list. That wasn't unexpected, since Torchwood One probably had more secrets than even they knew about it, but this was the first one that Jack had felt the need to get open. It was a deep, instinctive impulse, the kind that he'd never understood and had learned to trust. Carefully, he stretched out a hand to brush the door's surface, feeling something stir at the back of his mind.

A white-coated scientist hurried over before he could touch the handle.

"I'm sorry, sir. That's not on the tour."

"Right." Jack stared at the white paint for a moment, trying to follow the instinct back to its source, find a rational reason for what he was doing. Not that he needed one, not when the drive was so strong inside him. Blinking, he forced his attention back to the ad-hoc guard, who was licking his lips nervously. "Do you know who I am?" Jack asked, watching the man's eyes flicker down the corridor and back.

"Erm…" Straightening his shoulders, the man tried to get control of the situation. "It's out of bounds to everyone, sir, no matter who you are."

Jack leaned closer. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood Three."

"Er, yes?" The man swallowed, and blushed when Jack gave him an overly feral grin.

"Either let me in, or walk away." Jack turned back to the door, having a closer look at the lock. It didn't appear to be too complicated, but this was Torchwood.

"You're missing the tour, Jack." Peter came to stand beside him, nudging him with his elbow. "What have you found? Hmmm." He dipped his head to look at the lock, then tried the handle. "It appears to be locked."

"I don't suppose," Jack began, glancing at Peter, who tilted his head and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small silver box.

"Well, since you asked. I've taken to bringing this with me when I come to London. It's very useful for getting out of Tube fares."

"You couldn't just get an Oyster card?"

"Do you want me to open the door or not?"

The scientist was starting to get quite agitated. "Look, you really can't do this. You're not allowed in there!"

Jack rounded on the man, who took a step backwards, startled. "You going to stop me?"

"I'm in." Peter announced and Jack grinned.

"Thanks." He pushed at the door, stepping through it into a dark storeroom. "Don't let him set off an alarm." He gestured vaguely in the direction of the man in the white coat, trusting Peter to keep things under control as he ventured further inside.

The air was dry and warm, although Jack could hear the thrum of an air conditioning unit somewhere. Light streamed in from the corridor outside, falling on boxes and shelves. Moving carefully, Jack picked up some of the objects, still not sure what had drawn him in here. Then something began to glow.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The light from the corridor was blocked as Yvonne came into the room. She was in full-on 'I'm in charge here' mode, hands on hips and head held high. Jack ignored her.

The glow was coming from the far corner of the room, behind two small boxes. He moved them aside and stared into the light.

"What the-" Yvonne came up behind him, looking past him at the object. "What did you do to it?"

Jack shook his head, reaching out to pick it up. The glow was fading now, but the object was moving, shifting in its liquid. The fingers were twitching, and Jack curled his own hand in response. When he could speak, his voice came in a hoarse whisper.

"Where did you get this?"

* * *

  
They were sitting in Yvonne's office, almost at the top of the building. The jar containing the hand sat on her desk between them. Somewhat recovered from whatever had gripped him earlier on, Jack pointedly ignored it, watching Yvonne as she watched him.

"Are you going to tell me what you did to it?" she asked again. "It was just a pickled body part, then you show up and it starts going all Adams Family on us."

"I've no idea," Jack said, honestly. "I didn't even touch the jar before you came into the room."

"Captain Jack Harkness kept his hands to himself?" Yvonne raised an eyebrow. "Don't let that one get out. Why were you in there in the first place?"

Jack had already formulated an answer to that one, so there was no hesitation in his reply. "The door was locked and I don't trust you. I wanted to see what was in there."

"The witness I spoke to said you looked like a man possessed." Some of the sardonic disbelief had gone from Yvonne's face as she leant forwards. "What really happened, Jack?"

He shrugged. He wasn't about to tell her about the strange compulsion, the call in his soul and heart that had drawn him in there. And he certainly wasn't going to mention that, just for a moment, there had been singing in his mind.

"Like I said, I don't trust you."

Sitting back, Yvonne considered him for a moment. Then she said, "Fine. If you want it, it's yours. We couldn't do anything with it anyway. But I want something in return."

"What?"

"The plans to the Rift Manipulator."

"What?" Taken by surprise, Jack frowned. Of all the things she could have named. "Why?"

"We're all in this together, Jack." Yvonne leaned back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap and smiling without any warmth whatsoever. "You've been making excuses about it for years, but I know it works."

"Why do you want them? You can't possibly-"

"I'm the judge of that, not you. We think they could be of great help in our research. There are things we need to know about these Rifts, and your manipulator could be of great help. Anyway." Yvonne put a well-manicured hand on the jar. "To me, they're worth a hell of a lot more than this. Do you really care what I'm going to with them?"

Mind racing, Jack considered the offer. He had been stalling on the plans, not wanting to hand them over until he knew what One was going to do with them. The technology was too advanced, too powerful to end up with the wrong people. But there was the hand, sitting on the table in the here and now, and suddenly there was no longer a decision to be made.

"Fine," he said, pulling the jar towards him. "I'll have Tosh email them over before I leave."

* * *

  
Peter was unlocking his Volvo when Jack reached the car park. Ignoring the old man's curious look, he stowed the jar safely in the boot before going round to the front.

"Did you get what you wanted, Jack?" Peter asked, giving him a shrewd look. There was no way he could know what the contents of the jar really meant, but he must have seen their importance to Jack.

"In return for something Yvonne wants." Jack shrugged. "The way of the world."

"It is indeed. Was it worth it?"

"I don't know," Jack whispered, leaning against the car. Peter smiled gently.

"You always do your best, Jack. Always have done. And you've always been the one to give things up." He patted Jack on the hand. "Maybe it's your turn to get something in return."

"Maybe." Shaking himself a little, Jack wrapped an arm round Peter's narrow shoulders, hugging him gently. "You drive safely, you hear me. Get back to Scotland in one piece."

To Jack's surprise, Peter turned and looked up at him, smiling gently before reaching up to touch his cheek. "I will," he said gently. "You take care of Cardiff, Jack. Take care of yourself."

There was no answer to that, or the look in Peter's eyes, so Jack just nodded, swallowing hard and leaning into the touch for a moment. Then he was standing alone by the SUV, watching the rear lights of the Volvo disappear into the dark.

The wind had come up at some point, lifting and shifting the ash, piling it in drifts by the walls of the car park. It might not have been snow, but the air was cold enough to make Jack shiver. Climbing into the car, he turned the heat up and took a deep breath before pulling away. The jar would be secure enough in the boot, but Jack wasn't in the mood to take any chances. There was a change in the air; he could feel it. He kept telling his people that they needed to be ready. He only hoped that he would be too.

* * *

Peter first appeared in [Coming Back](http://heretoutopia.livejournal.com/1514.html). Jo was in [Vancouver (or: Old Friends)](http://heretoutopia.livejournal.com/4279.html). Jack seems to have taken up residence in my head.


End file.
